The Lani People Read online

  CHAPTER XV

  Copper had been acting strangely of late, Kennon thought as he rolledover in his bed and watched her standing before the full-length mirroron the bathroom door. She pivoted slowly before the glass, eying herselfcritically, raising her arms over her head, holding them at her sides,flexing her supple spine and tightening muscles that moved like silkencords beneath her golden skin.

  "What are you trying to do--become a muscle dancer?" Kennon asked idly.

  She whirled, a crimson blush deepening the tan of her face. "You weresupposed to be asleep," she said.

  "I'm an unregenerate heel," he replied, "and I don't sleep too wellnowadays unless you're beside me."

  "Well--I suppose you might as well know now as later," she said. "You'llknow in any event."

  "Know what?"

  "That you're right. I am human."

  "And what brought on this sudden change of--" He stopped abruptly, hiseyes widening.

  "Yes," Copper said. "I am with child. Your child."

  "But that's impossible."

  She shook her head. "It's a miracle perhaps, but it's not impossible.It's happened. Can't you see the difference?"

  "See what? You look just as you always do."

  "I suppose you can't see it yet," she admitted. "But I am with child.I'm two weeks past my time."

  Kennon's mind leaped to the obvious conclusion. Pseudo-pregnancy. He hadseen it before among Lani at Hillside Farm. It was an odd syndromewhich occasionally occurred in humans and animals. The brain, desiringchildren, made demands upon the body and the body responded to itsdesire by tricking the brain. Lani were fairly subject to it probablybecause they had better imaginations. He would run a few tests when theywent down to the hospital, and once she realized the practical joke herbody was playing everything would be all right. No wonder she seemedexcited.

  "We'll find out about that later," he said equably. "We'll settle thiswhen we get back to the hospital."

  Copper smiled confidently and patted her stomach. "I know what you arethinking, but you're wrong. We Lani know about these things. In fortygenerations I am the first to conceive as the Master intended."

  "I hope you haven't," Kennon said with such bitter sincerity that Copperlooked at him wide-eyed. "Not now. Because if you have, neither yourlife nor mine is safe."

  "Why?"

  "The Alexanders. Do you think they'll take it lying down? We're notready for them yet. They'll fight, and the first thing they'll do iskill you and erase me so we would never be able to talk. You have beendeclared an animal, and you will not be allowed to change."

  "What can we do?" Copper asked. She shivered. "I do not want to die."

  "Nor do I want you to," Kennon said.

  "I could tell the others."

  "And just what would that accomplish?"

  "In a week every Lani on the island would know it. There would berevolt. For the Lani would no longer be dependent upon Men to survive.Their greatest hold on us would be gone. And we would be free again onour island world."

  "You would not!" Kennon said. "That sort of thinking is foolishness.Alexander would have men here within a week, and a week after that youwould be smashed. Don't you realize that there are thousands of millionsof men in the galaxy--and to every one of them you would be animals. Youknow nothing about what you would face. Your puny hundreds couldn't evenstand against a fraction of the power Alexander could mount against you.Have you seen a Burkholtz blaster work? Have you seen remote-controlantipersonnel missiles? Have you push-pull projectors, atomic warheads?All of these weapons Alexander can command. Don't you realize he's anentrepreneur?--one of the most powerful men in this sector?"

  Copper shook her head. "No," she said in a small voice. "I know nothingabout these things."

  "And do you think forty generations of absolute obedience to men can beovercome because one Lani says she is pregnant by a man?"

  Copper frowned. "You put that in a different way. You talk as if it weremy belief rather than the truth."

  "What is truth?" Kennon said heavily. "Who would believe you? There arehundreds of others with child.

  "Sure you're human. You know it. I know it. I've been trying to convinceyou for the past two months. You're just as human as I am. But pray thatyou're not pregnant. We can't get out of here in less than four monthsand by then everybody will know about you. Someone will certainly checkthe records. And after that will come the psychoprobes. Everything willcome to light. The Egg will be destroyed. I will be erased. You will bedead. And that will be the end of it." He looked down at her with an oddexpression of pity on his face. "You see?" he demanded harshly.

  Copper nodded. "I didn't understand," she said. "Don't be angry with me.I shouldn't have told you. I thought you'd be happy."

  "I was never angry with you, but I am with myself. I was stupid. Ididn't figure on the remote possibility that we might be geneticallycompatible. I should have my head examined for putting you in suchdanger. However there's the possibility--the probability--that your bodyis playing a trick upon you."

  She shook her head. "You are wrong. I am not mistaken. I am with childand the child is yours. But the fault is no more yours than mine. Iwanted you before you looked on me. I still do and I do not feel atfault. That I am yours, that my child is yours is a thing of wonder andjoy. Never could I have expected so much."

  Kennon looked down at her smudged face, streaked with the suddenrivulets of tears, and bitterness galled his throat. Dear God--let herbe wrong, he prayed silently. Let it be pseudopregnancy this time. Letthe tests be negative.

  But they weren't. Unequivocally they confirmed Copper's diagnosis. Herewas the proof he needed. The final test that would prove the Lani human.And he had no way of getting it where it would do any good. It wouldtake at least four months of steady labor before the ship was ready, andhe didn't have that sort of time. He was needed here and his prolongedabsence would cause suspicion and investigation. Something would have tobe done--but what? He couldn't take Copper off the island in an airboat.They were checked with microscopic care by Otpen One's IFF. A jeepdidn't have enough range to take them to the mainland. And even if theygot there they couldn't get off the planet. Alexander knew everythingthat happened on Kardon's two spaceports. The Egg was the only way, butthe Egg was unfinished and unspaceworthy.

  Frantically Kennon considered concealing Copper. He shook his head. Itwouldn't work. It would be impossible, to hide a baby on a place whereevery birth was recorded. Nor could one hide evidence of pregnancy in aLani. Childbearing leaves telltale marks upon the body, and Copper, evenif she could be concealed for the duration of her pregnancy, could neversurvive the sharp-eyed scrutiny of her fellows or the other humans.Questions would inevitably be asked.

  There had to be a solution. He rubbed his forehead wearily. It wasstrange how so little a thing as the union of a spermatozoon and an ovumcould produce so much trouble. He looked across the office at Copperplacidly filing case cards. She wasn't worrying. With sublime faith,she was sure that he would find the answer, the one that would solveeverything. He shuddered. The only logical solution was abortion--andthat was unthinkable! He would not murder his child--nor would Copperpermit it if he was capable of doing so.

  It was almost a relief when his phone rang and Blalok's voice camecheerfully across the wire.

  "Tried to get you about an hour ago," the superintendent said, "but yourgirl said you were busy."

  "I was."

  "You through now?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, get up to the fortress. Alexander just flew in and he's calling ameeting. Something important has come up."

  Something important! A wave of ice rattled down Kennon's spine, and thenhe grinned feebly. Alexander didn't know. He couldn't know. It had to besomething else.

  "I'll be right up," he said, marveling at the calmness in his voice.

  Kennon couldn't help comparing this meeting with the one a year ago.The location was different--the conference room in Alexandria was moreformal than
Blalok's parlor but the same people were present: Alexander,Blalok, Jordan, and himself. Somehow Alexander seemed to have shrunk. Hewas no longer as impressive as he had been. But the man still radiatedforce, even though it didn't seem quite so overpowering. The year,Kennon thought, had done much to build his self-confidence. He feltassured rather than nervous.

  "Good to see you, Kennon," Alexander said. "Reports say you're doing agood job."

  "I can't claim the credit," Kennon said. "Eighty-five per cent of oursuccess is due to co-operation from the operating staff. And that'sBlalok's doing--he knocked the heads of the division managers togetherand they took care of their staffs. Otherwise we could have had a badtime."

  "But you didn't," Alexander said. "And you were the motive force."

  "I've darn near motivated myself out of a job," Kennon said. "Theyco-operate all too well nowadays."

  "Which goes to prove that my theories on preventive medicine are right,"Alexander said, turning to Blalok.

  "It looks that way," Blalok admitted, "but that could be because youpicked a good man."

  "He's good in more ways than one," Alexander said. "Or did he tell youhe saved Douglas's life out on Otpen One?"

  "He's never said a word."

  Alexander smiled. "Another point in his favor. He knows how to keep hismouth shut."

  "Not when he's telling someone what to do about disease," Jordoninterjected.

  "Or telling someone off when they haven't followed directions," Blaiokadded.

  "Better and better. I was sure that he was the one we needed when wefirst met."

  Kennon felt his ears turn flaming red.

  "But that's not the reason I brought you here. This isn't a Jac Kennonadmiration society. I called you because I want to expand the Lanibreeding program."

  "Why?" Jordan asked.

  Blalok stiffened. "You know my feeling about that, sir. I've never likedthe idea of selling them. If that's what's in your mind--"

  Alexander shook his head. "Simmer down," he said, as he seated himselfat the head of the table. "There's going to be no selling. The Lani aretoo valuable for that. We'll need them more than the money they'd bringon the market. You see--I've acquired a planet out on the periphery. Aplace called Phoebe. One of our ships found it, and I staked a discoveryclaim on the major land mass, and the crew made lesser claims thatcovered all the available land. Last month the Brotherhood allowed theclaims. Last week the crewmen sold me their land. Phoebe's a lovelyplace--quite a bit like Flora--and the ecological tests show it'scapable of supporting mammalian life. Just before I came here I sentthree shiploads of exterminators to clean it up and make it ready forus. It should be ready in two years."

  "What sort of an ecology are you exterminating?" Jordan asked.

  "Not that it makes any difference," Alexander said, "but it's mainlyreptilian. Nothing over Group I. We'll restock with Floran animals."

  Jordan sighed. "Since that's the way it is, it doesn't make anydifference," he said. "But it could have. The Lani are sensitive tothings like that. If they thought that they were walking in over a pileof bodies they'd do badly. It'd be like Olympus all over again. And wecouldn't keep them from knowing. We talk and we forget, but they'd telleach other--and they'd remember."

  "I know," Alexander said, "somehow they've never forgotten thatGrandfather trapped the last of the Lani males on Olympus."

  Jordan nodded. "They can't stand the place. That's why we had to abandonthe station."

  "Does this new world have a moon?" Kennon asked abruptly.

  "Yes--in fact it has two."

  "Habitable?"

  "No--they're too small to hold air. But men could live there indomes--but why do you?--oh! I see! I hadn't considered that point."Alexander's hand darted to the phone beside him. "Get me Albertsville,"he snapped. "Yes, my offices--I want Mr. Oliver in purchasing andcontracting. Hello--Ward? Alexander here. Yes--everything's fine. Ihave a job for you--use your scrambler-pattern two." Alexanderdialed the scrambler code on the second dial at the base of the phone,effectively preventing eavesdropping by beam tappers. "Yes," he went on."It's Project Phoebe. Have you secured title to the moons? You haven't?Well--you'd better do it before some of our competitors get brightideas. Sure they know about the project--do you think they're stupid?Warren over at Consolidated practically told me that he was onto ourscheme. So get title to those moons. Since they're uninhabitable andwithin the planet's primary field they come under the Spatial Debris Actand you should be able to get Kardonian title without any great amountof trouble. Naturally we want them.--For defense--what else? We'll havemost of our eggs in that basket. No--I don't know how we overlooked thatpoint. But if it wasn't for a bright young man out here we'd have leftourselves wide open. Now get cracking--get that leak plugged!" Alexanderdropped the phone back in its cradle and sighed. "Well--that's buttonedup," he said. "Thanks, Kennon."

  Kennon looked at Alexander's grinning face, his own impassive, but ashattering certainty exploded in his mind--Alexander was a telepath!That was his difference! That was the thing that made him feared andrespected by his business associates. It wouldn't have been enough onthe Central Worlds, where men knew of sensitives and took precautionsagainst them. But out here on the periphery it was a deadly advantage.

  "So I gave it away," Alexander said. "I suppose I was careless, but yourthoughts about the moons shocked me."

  "You practically told me once before, when you hired me," Kennon said,"but I never realized it."

  "You were too excited then."

  "I wouldn't know," Kennon said. "At any rate I didn't add the factscorrectly." From somewhere deep in his memory an old quip came floatingto the surface: "An executive is a man who picks brains--others'brains." By that definition Alexander was an executive of the firstclass. Alexander chuckled.

  Suddenly Kennon wanted to run. Panic flooded him! What had he beenthinking about? Had he thought of--two times two are four, four timesfour are sixteen, sixteen times sixteen are--let's see, six timessixteen is ninety-six, one times sixteen is--six, five, carryone--two--two hundred fifty-six. Two hundred fifty-six times--

  "What's eating you?" Alexander demanded.

  "I'm angry," Kennon said. "I told you the conditions I'd sign thatcontract, and you wrote a Peeper Clause into it. And then you peep inthe worst way possible. There's no defense against a Telep unlessyou know about him; you've had my whole mind bare! You've violated mypersonal privacy like no man has done before. Sure I'm mad. I expectedhonesty from you--and you peep!" The anger was stronger now--a wave ofraw emotion based on a lifetime of training in mutual respect of a man'sprivacy--a feeling intensified by his childhood environment of a crowdedplanetary ecology and the cramped crew quarters on a spaceship. ToKennon, Alexander had committed the ultimate sin.

  "I can see I made a mistake by not telling you," Alexander said. Hisvoice was cold. "But you have no right to insult me."

  "I'm not saying it, am I?" Kennon snapped. The moonflower on thebookcase behind Alexander was a thing of beauty. Alexander liked beauty.He had said so, and the Great Hall below them bore it out. It was alovely room. Those four bronze Lani in the fountain were works of art.One of them looked remarkably like Copper. Copper in bronze. The littlewitch had probably posed for the casting. Maybe it had even been madefrom her body.

  "They're all of Susy," Alexander said. "I can see why you are angry, andI don't blame you. But remember I warned you about Lani."

  Copper--Kennon wrenched his thoughts back to the moonflower. It hadtwelve petals, limpid white on the borders shading to deep blue in thecenter-from which the cream-colored stamen surrounded by transparentpistils sprang to burst into a golden glory of pollen that drippedin tiny yellow flecks to the broad petals below. It was a magnificentflower. There was nothing like it on Beta. That was a marvelous thingabout flowers--wherever one went in the universe, plants used the samemethods to fertilize their seed and spread their germ plasm. It was toobad that--Kennon jerked his attention to Alexander's face. He detestedthe thought that
his mind was common property. A man should havesomething he can call his own. There had been a clinics instructorin Year Six who was a sensitive. The classes had protected themselvesagainst his prying with a circlet--a thought screen--he had done it too.Maybe he had brought the circlet with him. If he did, no one was goingto catch him without it. It was a dirty business, this reading ofothers' thought. Now where had he put that circlet? Was it among his oldbooks--or was it with his instruments?

  "Why don't you go back to your house and find it?" Alexander snapped."As you are, you're nothing but a disruption. I want you in on thismeeting, but not the way you're acting."

  "I'm not going to act any other way until I get some protection frompeeping," Kennon said grimly. "And if you think this is bad wait till Istart going through comparative anatomy."

  "What's the matter with you two?" Blalok asked.

  "Be quiet," Alexander snapped. "This isn't your problem. Kennon isbehaving like a spoiled child!"

  "He's a telepath!" Kennon said. "And he didn't tell me."

  "So what? I've known that for years."

  "And you stand for it?"

  "I'm a Mystic, not a Betan," Blalok said. "I don't have your insanedesire for privacy."

  "Go find that thought screen if you still have it!" Alexander said. "Idon't want any more of this. You're making me ill!"

  Kennon grinned thinly as he rose to his feet. It was a good thing heremembered Alexander was squeamish and didn't like anatomy. The doorwas to his left, an iris door with eight leaves--terribly old-fashioned.About ten steps away. Count them--one--two--three--

  Alexander sighed as Kennon left the room. "I certainly pushed the panicbutton on that young man," he said. "He has a pathological attitudetoward telepathy. Wonder what he has to hide that he wants privacy sobadly? Even for a Betan this reaction was violent."

  "Oh, I don't know. He's a pretty emotional sort. Maybe he hates to looklike a fool. He's gotten himself mixed up with one of the Lani. Cutelittle thing by the name of Copper," Blalok said.

  "Oh--that's it. I thought that was what he was hiding. A picture ofa girl kept popping up." Alexander chuckled. "I suppose that's thetrouble. A man hardly likes to look a fool, particularly to someonewho has warned him. At that, I don't blame him. They are beautiful andaffectionate. And even with their superstitions and tabus they're betterthan most humans."

  "For pets," Blalok said heavily.

  "They're not better at anything," Jordan demurred. "They can't be--manis the best and always will be."

  "The eternal racial chauvinist," Alexander murmured. He turned hisattention to Blalok. "But for awhile, Evald, I'd suggest you keep aneye on our young man. I still don't like his reaction. It was tooviolent--too defensive. I don't feel right about it. Perhaps Betans aremore sensitive than most people but it seems to me that he's tryingto conceal something. There was an undertone of fear--and somethingelse--beneath his defenses."

  "Couldn't you get any more than that?" Blalok asked. "You're pretty goodat this mind-reading business."

  "His defenses were remarkably good," Alexander said dryly.

  * * *

  Well he'd done it now, Kennon thought. He found the thought-screencirclet sandwiched between two books on comparative neuroanatomy whichhe hadn't bothered to unpack. He slipped it on and connected the leadwires to a portable battery pack. There was a half-forgotten tinglingas the weak field heterodyned his thought waves. Kennon sighed. IfAlexander wasn't suspicious of him now the man was a fool. He'd done aswell as he could with confusion and outrage, but it was hardly possibleto hide behind superficialities. Even the most disciplined mind couldn'tdo that without some preparation. Undoubtedly his concern about Copperhad leaked through. He could only hope that other and more importantthings had not.

  Well--he could go back to the conference now, but he would have to bedoubly careful from now on. He couldn't make daily trips to Olympus. Hisreaction had killed that plan. Alexander would be suspicious now--andunusual actions would crystallize suspicion to certainty. Now he neededa reason to be in that area. And then he grinned. He had a reason--agood one--one that would fit in with Alexander's plans and his own.The only problem would be to make Alexander buy it--and that might bedifficult. He'd have to work carefully--but with normal luck he couldput the idea across. He crossed his fingers as he trudged back up thepath to Alexandria.

  The conference dragged on. Unlike most meetings, this one accomplishedthings--which was a tribute to Alexander's ability to keep the subjectin hand. Details of the expansion program presented by Alexander wererapidly reduced to workable plans. They involved some rearrangement ofexisting facilities, and the construction of others. But the obvioussnags were rapidly disposed of, and the whole revamped operation wasoutlined on paper in surprisingly few hours. A deadline date was set,construction was authorized, and in the morning the first steps in thepractical implementation of the new program would be taken.

  "Well, that's that," Alexander said with a sigh. "I think this calls fora drink."

  "There's one more thing," Kennon said. "I know it isn't much, butJordan's remark started me thinking."

  "What remark?" Jordan asked.

  "The one you made at the beginning about Phoebe possibly being like theOlympus Station. I've often wondered why that particular location hasbeen so difficult to operate. Sure, I know the accepted explanation,but I think we should learn why it works and how to break a tabu. If wedon't, we might be in for trouble."

  "That's a good thought," Alexander said. "I tried to find out once, butall I could discover was that it was tabu. The Lani simply didn't likeit. And despite the fact that I can read minds, I didn't learn any morethan that. There's a certain sex-linkage to telepathy, as you probablyknow."

  Kennon nodded.

  "All I could discover was that their dislike of Olympus was a basicemotion rather than reasoned thought. They were nervous, irritable,disobedient, and uncooperative while they were there--and even theydidn't know why. It was merely tabu. We even tried youngsters--but theattitude was the same. I'd like to know more about that basic emotion."

  "We should understand it," Kennon agreed. "If we transship a largenumber of Lani to a strange world, we should know their deepestmotivations. We cannot take the chance that the transplant won't take,with all the money you're sinking into this project."

  "You have a point there. Have you any suggestions about how toaccomplish this?" Alexander's voice was interested.

  "I have. Hire a psychologist. And reopen Olympus."

  "It'll be the same story," Jordan said.

  "Not if you apply experimental procedure," Kennon said. "Divide theplace into a number of separate units in which groups of--say ten--Laniof various ages are kept. Let every group know where they are, but don'tlet them come in contact with one another. Observe them constantly. Putspy cells in the units. Couple them to recorders. Prepare a set of testsituations and observe how each group performs. Question individualsunder narcosynthesis. Observe and record any changes in physicalcondition--give them the works. Maybe we can collect some basic datathat will indicate the answer."

  "Not a bad idea," Alexander said.

  "I don't like it," Jordan said. "It sounds cumbersome."

  "It is," Kennon agreed. "But it may save a great deal of trouble later."

  "I think you're right, Kennon," Blalok said. "We should know everythingwe can."

  "What would you do first if you were heading this program?" Alexanderasked. He eyed Kennon critically.

  "Nothing," Kennon said promptly. "I'm not qualified to run aninvestigation like this. You need a specialist. I am a practitioner."

  "Hmm--but you know experimental procedure."

  "Naturally--but I do not have the training to prepare a program orevaluate its results. The only thing I could do would be to check thephysical condition of the experimental groups."

  "Could you set up the physical facilities?" Alexander asked.

  "Possibly--I'd need a set of plans of the station, and I couldn'tguarantee
that the specialist wouldn't want to make changes. But thephysical arrangements should be simple enough to construct."

  "How long would it take you to prepare a plan?"

  "I could have it by tomorrow, or perhaps a day later."

  "If you can do it by then I'll stay over. I'd like to examine thisproposal more closely. It has merit. That's the second constructivesuggestion you've made tonight. Despite your peculiar desire forprivacy, I'm glad you came back." Alexander smiled.

  Kennon smiled back. Apparently the entrepreneur had taken the bait.But it was too early to tell whether he had swallowed it withoutreservation. It all depended upon how much had been given away beforehe had discovered that Alexander was a telepath. Perhaps Alexander wasmerely leading him on. There were too many intangibles, and there was noway of predicting how it would turn out. But he felt mildly optimistic.

  Alexander closed the meeting, and Kennon left promptly. He had a goodexcuse. There was plenty of work to do if he was going to prepare anadequate plan for utilizing Olympus Station. Jordan went with him,but Blalok stayed behind. It was natural enough. Blalok was theadministrator, but Kennon felt uneasy. Nor would he have felt any betterif he could have heard what went on after he left.

  Alexander looked quizzically at Blalok after the door closed behind thetwo men.

  "Well, Evald, what do you think? Does it strike you that Kennon'ssincere--or does it sound as though he has something up his sleeve?"

  "If he does," Blalok said, "I don't know what it could be. I wouldn'ttake a job on Olympus if you gave it to me."

  "If he doesn't know about the place," Alexander said thoughtfully, "it'sprobable that his suggestion was honest. I think it is but I'm not sure.He worries me now that I can't read him. I think I'll send Douglas backhere to watch him."

  "Why? In my book that'd be a poor choice. After all, you said Kennonsaved his life. He should be grateful."

  "You don't know Douglas," Alexander said. "He hates Kennon's guts forwhat he did."

  "What did he do?"

  "He made Douglas feel inferior. And there's no surer way to gain mycousin's undying enmity." Alexander laughed. "I know," he said. "He'dlike to kill me, too."

  Blalok shrugged.

  "But in the meantime I want you to keep an eye on Kennon. If his outlineis all right, I'm going to authorize him to set up this experiment. Iwant to give him every possible chance. I like him--and he's done goodwork. I wouldn't want him to feel that I distrust him."

  "Which you do, of course," Blalok said dryly.

  Alexander smiled. "Actually," he said with equal dryness, "I distrusteveryone."